The lingering mood of the last match had yet to fade when the next pair of names was called.
Two names side by side, sharing the same surname.
The noise at the far end of the stands dipped, then swelled again.
Hinata stood and tightened the old Wrist Guard around her wrist another notch.
Her palm was slick with sweat. She wiped it against her skirt before stepping into the arena.
Her heart raced faster than her feet.
Her opponent was already in position. His eyes had not left her since she entered.
He spoke first.
"It doesn't matter who teaches you. An ailment you're born with can't be cured, so..."
The rest never came.
She was already moving. Three steps, driving straight down the center.
Once she took that step, she had no intention of pulling back.
Someone nearby half rose from their seat, only to be dragged back down by the person beside them.
Her first strike came in, and her opponent raised a hand to parry.
Their hands collided between them, then both drew back.
Neji retreated less than half a step, his eyes narrowing.
The center of the arena fell quiet. The gap between them shrank inch by inch.
He raised both hands before his chest.
She recognized that opening stance. A year ago, it had been the very thing she feared.
His fingertips picked up speed, striking at the gaps in her joints, touching one spot before shifting to another.
Hinata did not try to match his hands for speed.
She closed in, laid her wrist against his, and guided his force aside.
They traded positions, still face-to-face.
In the second exchange, his fingertips swept up from below, still aiming for the gaps in her joints.
Her wrist arrived first, pressing against his forearm and